


Knowing me, Knowing you

by Yourloveislikeastorm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aha, Amnesia, Amnesiac Stiles Stilinski, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frontotemporal Dementia, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, there is nothing we can do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yourloveislikeastorm/pseuds/Yourloveislikeastorm
Summary: Stiles has been forgetting lately.It started with small things, not being able to immediately remember birthdays of the pack, recurring plans to meet people and grab dinner.Stiles started to worry when he finished up work at the station and got into his jeep. He clicked the seatbelt in, started the car, but then he paused.“Fucking shit. Not now.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 213





	Knowing me, Knowing you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Under the bright (but faded lights)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677805) by [whenshewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites). 



> Inspired by this gifset. I had no choice but to write this.  
> https://hoechlinteeth.tumblr.com/post/74186156259

Stiles has been forgetting lately.

It started with small things, not being able to immediately remember birthdays of the pack, recurring plans to meet people and grab dinner.

Stiles started to worry when he finished up work at the station and got into his jeep. He clicked the seatbelt in, started the car, but then he paused.

“Fucking shit. Not now.”

He hit the steering wheel with both palms and continued to swear. He turned the car off and hoped that anyone else leaving through the doors wouldn’t question him still in the car park. Pulling his phone out his coat pocket on the passenger seat he unlocked it and his finger hovered over the call button. This couldn’t be happening. He’s just had a long day that’s all. He sighed and pressed it.

“I need you to come pick me up.”

He hung up immediately not wanting to start crying over the phone. He couldn’t stop the sob escaping as he threw his phone in the direction of the seat next to him and held his head in his hands, elbows resting on the wheel. He was stuck in his thoughts of the implications when there was a knock at the window.

“Hey, what happened?” Stiles couldn’t remember last seeing so much concern in Derek’s eyes and he didn’t hesitate in yanking his seatbelt off and stumbling out the door and into Derek.

“It’s ok, I got you. Can you tell me what happened? If it’s your jeep we can get it fixed I promise, we’ll sort something.”

Stiles sobbed harder into Derek’s chest.

“Nothings wrong with her, Derek. It’s me. I’m wrong. I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken Stiles, I promise you we can fix it. Whatever happened.”

“You can’t fix it, not this time.”

Derek held onto Stiles closer, pulling him in and he almost missed Stiles mutterings.

“I forgot where we live, Derek. My own fucking address. I can’t remember how to get home. How useless am I now.”

And Derek didn’t know what to do with that. Stiles’s tears continued to fall as Derek bundled him up and put him in the Camaro. He rescued Stiles’s coat and bag off the seat in the Jeep nearly missing his phone partially under the seat and locked it behind him. He’d get Stiles home and they’d figure it out. They’ll find a fix, whatever happens.

…

The week went on uneventful, Stiles requesting a few days off as Deputy after Derek’s stern glare the day after they got home. They were waiting on results, but neither of them wanted to admit their guess as to what was happening.

Stiles was scared shitless trying to think of plans for the worst case scenarios. What if he forgot about werewolves? What if he forgot the Pack? What if he forgot Derek? Or his Dad? How useful is he gonna be to the Pack or to anyone for that matter if he forgets how to fight or defend himself or how to drive a car.

Derek of course can guess these thoughts, and trying not to dwell on them himself, sets about reassuring Stiles in their routine that they’ve built for themselves.

“Babe, we’ll deal with it. Whatever the results, whatever our options. I love you. You can’t forget that. We’ll work it out. We always do.”

It became their mantra over the next few weeks after appointments and hospital visits come and go.

Derek always reminding him of the love they have. He knows that even if Stiles forgets about the love that he never would. He’d say it for the both of them if Stiles ever stopped.

…

Stiles spends a lot of time writing on his laptop. He’s referring to it as The Stiles Manual. Important information and dates and memories he wants to keep stored. He wants to be able to have a failsafe if more slips away out of his reach.

Derek keeps assuring him that it’s not going to get that bad. That they’d fix it before he forgot the important things. Stiles wasn’t going to let it get a chance.

He writes about his mom and his dad, growing up in the house in Beacon hills. He writes about Scott and Lydia and Jackson and Allison. He writes about Erica, Boyd and Isaac. He writes about the basic werewolf lore with tabs and references to the bestiary and other information sources. He writes about high school, him getting his college diploma, getting hired at the station.

Most importantly he writes about Derek. Meeting him, hating him, being scared of him, getting him arrested. He writes about getting to know him, pack bonding nights where he’d stick around at the loft later than everyone else. How he’d get a smile or a small laugh occasionally. The victory he feels in his chest when he wins himself one of those. He writes about the gentle touches, the looks, how the talks got longer, deeper, softer. He writes about loving him.

He documented their house, when they bought it, the important moments and memories shared within the walls.

He wrote about the important things. The things he never wants to lose or forget or take for granted.

He doesn’t count on how he’d forget the small things too.

…

He knew he’d have to go and see his Dad soon. He’s talked to him sure, regular phone calls and updates, but this Sunday he’s just going to have dinner together, the three of them, like they do every month.

Derek shouts for him from downstairs saying he’s ready and Stiles comes down the stairs with a smile pressed on his face. He’s been looking forward to today, finally something normal after all this manic.

He goes to the door for his boots and sits on the stairs. The laces are already undone so he pulls the boot onto his foot and begins to tighten the laces. His fingers pull the boot tighter onto his foot and then he stills.

His fingers seem to have lost the ability to knot his shoe. Something so second nature, he’s been doing it by himself since he was 6. But today, he can’t seem to grasp the memory or bit of information to inform him what his fingers are supposed to do now. How his hands are supposed to move to form a knot. He puts his boot back down and his head drops forward.

Derek is by his side instantly sensing the unnatural stillness to Stiles. He bends down and quickly takes the laces in his fingers. He knew not to make a big deal of this. Wanted to make sure even if Stiles hasn’t been forgetting, that driving him home, or knotting a pair of shoelaces can be things used to show love to each other, not proof that they love each other despite these acts. They can use them as gentle moments to cherish with each other. There’s nothing Derek wouldn’t do for this man. Stopping to tie a shoelace isn’t a hardship for him.

“Hey Derek”

“Yup”

“I love you”

For now Stiles remembers that.

For now that’s more than enough.


End file.
